Heart of Stone
by the lurker
Summary: His eyes filled with misery, betraying the truth of her words, and she continued softly, " I just wanted you to know that you're not alone, Harry.  You're hurting because someone you loved died."  She leaned closer to him, whispering, "You're not alone."


"Heart of Stone"

She was really gone this time.

There would be no resurrections of a past life, no second chances, but instead, a cold lonely space in his heart where she used to reside. His heart ached from the loss, yet his exhausted mind would not stop replaying the explosion that took her from him; that took her from all of them. He looked down into the amber liquid at the bottom of the crystal tumbler which he held numbly in his right hand. After a moment of staring at it, he up-ended the scotch in one quick movement of his arm. But he knew it wouldn't take away the anguish he felt in the depths of his soul, nor lift the heaviness in his chest.

She was really gone this time.

There had been so many over the years, so many deaths. First it had been his friends and colleagues, and more recently members of his own team, who over time had become like family to him. Every loss hurt on a level that he could no longer comprehend. He had first become aware of his inability to cope when they lost Adam. Harry had sensed in his gut, as only a long-time spook might, that Adam wasn't going to make it. He couldn't remember with any real clarity the exact moment that it hit him, but he recalled pulling his arms around himself under the assault of tension as he disavowed what his sixth sense was telling him. And at the moment of the explosion and loss of Adam's signal, Harry had walked silently, arms still round himself, into his office where he doubled over from a pain so unbearable he couldn't breathe. Every loss since then had become more difficult to take, and he well imagined that this particular loss might be the final destruction of his very soul.

He leaned his forehead into his right hand, covering the upper part of his face as he felt the tears begin to sting his cheeks. He could no longer control it. He could no longer hold in the vile pain that was threatening to tear apart his heart. He tried in vain to squelch the soft sob of emotion that emitted through his gritted teeth, but the effort only caused him to cry harder.

She was really gone this time.

Caught up in his own sorrow, Harry failed to notice the solitary pair of eyes that had taken in the display of despair which wreaked havoc upon him. He failed to hear his door as it quietly slid open, his grief washing over him like waves of desolation that had been kept silently pent up for longer than he could remember. She froze in the doorway when she heard the low, anguished sobs emanating from the man behind the desk. She had never known him to easily give voice to his feelings, much less fall apart in his office on the Grid. She swallowed hard, not knowing if she should just turn back quickly before he realized he was no longer alone, or if she should try and be a friend.

A friend. It wasn't easy to be close to a man as private and apparently oblivious to his own feelings as Harry Pearce, and if she told the truth, she would have to admit that she had never exactly been honest with him about her own feelings. Yet here he was, the bedrock foundation of Section D, painfully crumbling. They had all lost so much over the years, but he had lost that much more, and she couldn't turn her back on him. She walked quietly over to the desk, and placed a soft hand on his shoulder, pitching her voice in a gentle lilt.

"Harry?"

He started at her touch, thinking no one was left on the Grid so late at night. Yet, he should have known she would be there. Given all that had happened, he knew deep down she wouldn't have left him alone. His voice was almost inaudible, and he kept his hand over his face, shielding her from the onslaught of emotions he couldn't control, as he softly spoke her name.

"Ruth." He felt her hand gently squeeze his shoulder in response, but still, he couldn't bear to face her. Not like this. "I'm sorry, Ruth," he muttered, embarrassed by the shakiness of his own voice.

Her hand moved to the back of his head, softly stroking his hair as she spoke gently to him, "It's all right, Harry. It's going to be all right."

He shook his head, violently trying to wipe away the tears falling fast down his face. "No Ruth, it's not all right. It won't ever be all right."

She moved to lean against his desk, facing him. "Look at me, Harry. Please? Look at me."

Slowly his hazel brown eyes flicked up to meet her sparkling blue ones. "Is this what you wanted to see, Ruth? To see that the tears are real? That I actually feel as much as the rest of you or if I truly have emotions at all?" He angrily threw his right arm out at the file folders sitting on his desk, flinging them violently to the floor. "I assure you, I have them." His eyes pierced her heart with their amber blaze. "I feel just as strongly as everyone on the Grid, but my position requires that I try and keep my emotions schooled."

His sudden outburst of anger caught Ruth off-guard, and she hesitated to respond. The awkward air thickened as his glare continued to rest on her. She looked away, unable to hold such a harsh sea of despondency. Finally, after assuring herself that her own anger was measured, she addressed him.

"I know you're hurting, Harry. And I know that you feel things." His eyes flicked away, as she pressed on. "Maybe I know better than anyone else here that you feel things quite deeply, and that you don't move past any of it very quickly nor very well." His angry gaze turned back to her, and she spoke quickly in the hopes of staving off another outburst. "That's not a criticism Harry, it's an observation." His look softened slightly, his eyes still full of wet tears, and with shaking hands Ruth reached out, cupping his face between them. "Ros was your protégé, Harry, she was emotionally like a daughter to you," his eyes filled with misery, betraying the truth of her words, and she continued softly, " I just wanted you to know that you're not alone, Harry. You're hurting because someone you loved died." She leaned closer to him, whispering, "But you're not alone."

And he could no longer hide from her, nor pretend that he was made of stone. Not with her. His face crinkled in pain as the tears fell and he gave into the grief in his heart with a gut-wrenching sob. Ruth pulled him to her, arms circling round him, rocking him gently like a child.

"Shhh," she soothed, "let it go, Harry, just let it go."

Through his tears, his strangled voice uttered, "It's my fault…" Ruth just held him, rubbing a soothing hand over his back in an attempt to comfort him. "It's my fault…"

She leaned her head down, placing her lips on the top of his head, gently pressing them to it in a light kiss. "It's not your fault, Harry," she said against his skin, "Ros was a good officer, she knew what she was into. She made a choice, Harry." She paused and her voice softened yet more, "One way to honor her is to respect that choice; let her have that decision on her own, and don't take on the responsibility for it. Ros wouldn't want that, you know she wouldn't want it. I'm sure she would never have admitted it, but she cared very much for you, Harry. She surely wouldn't have wanted to cause you this kind of pain. None of us would."

He nodded, but couldn't speak. Instead he let the one person he had never been able to excise from his heart, comfort him. He pressed his face further into the crook of her neck, and let her rock him gently, finding some solace in the warmth of her arms.

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End file.
